La Pensée du Jour...

thought for the day*...

*bastille

Mystery Date: à la française!

Who will YOU choose?

Marc-Dénis- he loves fondue, après-ski, and the feeling of tight trousers.

Jean-Georges- He is an avid tobacconist, poet, and paedophile

Jean-Claude.  He loves the Cinéma, wiretapping, philately and fellatio.

Frédéric-Paul -He loves Chopin, Debussy and Wings

René-Édouard-  He loves horticulture, cigarettes and Jean Claude.

Francophilie

So today I found myself in Paris.

Ok, ok...so it was a warehouse up-river from the Salvation Army, but it could have been for all intents and purposes Paris.

There are times, when the light just hits right, and you make yourself believe....that it really does kind of feel like France here.

I mean, you know,  if Paris were like on the surface of the sun.....
with drag queens...and drive thru daiquiris...or something

But still...

les tricolores

les portes (I like to imagine they are magic, and that you could step through into the Louvre....or at least into one of those public urinals in Paris.  Better than Narnia!)

un blackamoor (is it wrong that I kind of want this? don't answer)

des lustres (is it wrong that I want every last one?)

les groceries que I-don't-know-what-I'll do-with -but-bought-since- they-were-on-sale

.

                      I might just brush my teeth with that chestnut paste tomorrow.  What le hell, non?

la pensée du jour

Happy Bastille Day, y'all!
 
via via

les femmes de Paris

This bitch



Screw the Mona Lisa. This glamorous creature at the airport has it all over the her.
Sorry for the bad photo, I think her frosted eyeshadow caused my flash to glare.


Sarah Bernhart.
(Sadly we couldn't find Sandra Bernhard's tomb. Dommage).


Poor dear Edith




the Nike of Samothrace.

(Of course I had to recreate this scene from "Funny Face" in my head, saying "take the piktcha!, take the piktcha!"
but alas, no one got it.
sigh)


the Venus de Milo

the Femme de Psycho


Real life geisha on the Champs-Élysées.


I aspire to be her one day.



None other than Carine Roitfeld at a movie premiere! Carlos and I both squealed with elation on seeing her. We tried to explain, but the other two didn't know. I felt extra gay.Ran into Cathy on the Seine.
So gracious.

Merry Karlmas

While in Paris, we saw that the Christmas windows at Printemps were up....








And nothing's more festive than swarms of little Karl Lagerfeld marionettes,
right?
Right?

Paris Romance

My new lover (Diet Coke's chicer Parisienne cousine) and I in Paris.

Where we first met, with crepes, behind Notre Dame.
It was love at first kiss.


Coke Light au Louvre.

Coke Light, gazing down at Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower (5 euros! expensive bitch)

Coke Light at Versailles (she dressed in low heels for the occasion)



At Pere Lachaise


Oops. How'd that get in here?!
It was just one time, darling.
It meant nothing, I swear!!!!

post Paris

So I'm back from Paris....and too exhausted to even type.
Still.
Thank you all for your good wishes. I needed them.

In short, it was a whirlwind, completely wonderful, but just cause I'm a bitch here are some things I'm disappointed I didn't see:

1. Parisiennes in Dior gowns, walking poodles (if I'd have known, I'd have brought my own)
2. fresh sheets on the hotel bed
3. beret wearing boys with baguettes in their bicycle baskets
4. butter
5. the fabled French rudeness (well, except for that asshole at the Eiffel Tower snack booth, but then he was an immigrant, probably from America)
6. a bidet

Paris

This is one of the very first paintings I ever painted.

I must have been eight or nine at the time. It is supposed to be a Paris street scene, namely, St. Germain de Pres.
I had copied a picture out of a magazine and fancifully changed it up a bit.
I was entranced by the name St. Germain, one of my family names.

It's surreal to be going to Paris, when it's a place that I've literally dreamed about for years.
The dreams are always the best ones I have...(unlike the one in which I realize I'm having a test, and I haven't been to class in a month).

In the Paris dreams, I'm wandering around the Louvre, or wandering around the city at night. It's all very cliche. There's no plot to speak of, just calm.
From early childhood, I think, Paris has always been a symbol to me for something, not sure what, but I think it's something good.



Anyway, by the time this posts, we'll be hopefully on our way. Wish us luck!

Pre- Paree

So in eight days (!) or so, I'll be on my way to Paris. It's hard to believe.
I'll be going with a group of friends. We've traveled together before, but Paris will be nicer than the Redneck Riviera, right?

I'm ashamed to admit I've never been to Europe, barely out of the country. Mexico doesn't really seem to count, does it?

I've never been that far from home before either....or anywhere other than New Orleans in the winter. Amazing when I think about it. What's it like, this "cold" you people talk about?

The long flight will be a challenge for someone like me, who is more than a bit afraid to fly.

Carlos has graciously promised me a xanax, and I may have to take him up on that. Thank god for Marshall and all the planning he's done, because I'd be lost otherwise. They've been before, so that's a comfort.
I, however, have been planning to go to Paris since I was a child...a child, I swear.
It will be the fulfillment of one of my life long dreams. It sounds stupid, but it's true.

Still...eight days till and I have still not done the following I've been intending to do for the past year:

1. Brushed up on my French

2.Found anything suitable to wear

3.Lost weight

4.Begun packing

Anyway, I know all of you out there are much more cosmopolitan than I am. What do you advise for one's first trip to Gay Paree? Merci

J'adore

is there a way be able to live in an ad?
That's what I want to know.

thought for the day*

*happy fourth


via goldenfleecing

spelunking

I just spent two hours in a cave, hunched up in the dark, my arm wedged uncomfortably against the wall, a freezing wind blowing on my face.

I knew I should have remembered to bring a jacket to the theater.

Anyway, it's not just any cave, but the Chauvet cave, the site of some of oldest cave paintings in the world. Werner Herzog (he of the fabulous voice)'s film.

"A 3-D Documentary?"
I heard a guy sniff to his friend trying to encourage him to see it. "You have to be kidding."

Not an unreasonable thought, but it was totally worth it.
You should see it if you have the chance.




The place is utterly spellbinding. The cave itself, even without the paintings is like a fairyland of calcite. It's gorgeous. And then there are the drawings.

The way the cave artists managed to draw so beautifully and elegantly, the horses, the bison, the mammoths, and especially the lions is fascinating.

And to think that the place had been sealed up for 30,000 years or so, with nothing to disturb it, until 15 or so years ago. It's a terrible cliche, but it truly is like stepping into another time for a few hours.

Paris Match

Today, on a whim I bought a few old French magazines from a consignment shop. I couldn't resist. I fully intend to pretend to read these one day, at a cafe...just as soon as I can find some Gitanes and a fishermen's sweater. Des modes de 1959 pour les jolies femmes (or something)

quelle scandale!

My favorite article....the jeune homme timide (Jacques Charrier [Mr. Bardot, at the time, I think]) is adorable. How does one say "Aqua Velva" in French?

"Blizzard Flap"!

Harriet Carter's gone French!?

This picture of Sophia, "blonde et maigre", is worth the $1.50 right there, non?